


Good Things

by Wayfarers



Category: The Place Beyond the Pines (2012)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayfarers/pseuds/Wayfarers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after the events of the film, Jason is a drifter riding from place to place looking for opportunity and adventure. AJ is a student of politics at a major university (after some encouragement from his father). One holiday weekend, a chance encounter brings them together once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Carnival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



The carnival air smelled like popcorn and cinnamon, the grease from all the deep-fryers hanging in the air like a blanket, making the dry air humid. Jason looked at the ground when he walked so he wouldn’t step on any fresh wads of cheap booby prize gum spit out when it lost its flavor after twenty seconds of chewing. Children ran on the concrete back and forth between the games and rides, couples made out passionately against cheap wooden walls that shook every time they bumped up against it, but Jason walked alone. Alone, with nothing but his riding jacket and a helmet under his arm. He’d had a few helmets stolen (and had stolen a few helmets in return) and after a while he learned not to leave them hanging on the side of his bike anymore.

He’d managed to convince a cute girl working at one of the food stands to give him a free corn dog. It was amazing how much people respected you with a leather jacket and without a damn to give about much of anything, even when you were asking for a free lunch. He twirled the stick around in his mouth like a cigarette (not that he didn’t have those, but while there was no specific rule against it he thought it’d be bad form to smoke around all the kids).

“Hey, you, hey there, rebel,” a man with a missing front tooth called over from one of the game booths.

Jason pointed to himself, raising an eyebrow. While he’d always been a little bit of a hooligan (to use a word his teachers often used) even before running away from home, he still wasn’t used to people calling him anything like that. Rebel. Bad boy. Outlaw. He always thought those designations were reserved for hardcore criminals, drug dealers, killers, not free spirits who occasionally dabbled in crime.

“No, the five-year-old girl with the lollipop,” the carny said, “Yeah, you, get over here.”

Jason walked over to the booth. It was a simple game, the kind where you had to throw darts at balloons. Probably rigged in one way or another. Dull darts, balloons not filled to popping capacity, whatever. Jason didn’t hold that against anyone, a guy had to make money.

“You wanna try your luck?” the man said.

Jason looked around at the prizes, “What the hell am I gonna do with a stuffed horse or a live fish?”

“You could give it to your sweetie,” the carny said, and Jason stared at him blankly, “What, you don’t have a sweetie?”

Jason shrugged.

“Are you chicken?” the carny said.

Jason shrugged again.

The carny waved him off and was about to turn his attention elsewhere before Jason piped up again, “Where’s the motorcycle show? I heard you guys have one.”

“Yeah, yeah we do. Down there and keep walking left once you hit the lost kid tent,” he said, gesturing down between rows of games and food stands.

“Thanks,” Jason said, but he didn’t really expect a ‘you’re welcome’ before he started walking away.

At this time of night the neon signs and lamps stood out like bright city lights on the boardwalk. At this time of night there was no shortage of vomit staining the ground and the walls from the alcohol the carnival wasn’t technically allowed to sell. He pitied the poor sap that had to clean that up. He’d cleaned up his fair share of vomit for a bit of pocket change these last few years and it never got any less disgusting. Still, amidst the drunks and the seedy carnies and occasionally rather lewd public displays of affection, this place felt like home. Nostalgic, almost, although Jason never really went to a carnival as a kid. His mom wasn’t fond of them, she said the smell and the lights gave her a headache.

He figured he liked it here because he was a traveler, too. Someone who never stayed in one place for too long before moving down the road, someone who occasionally engaged in some less-than-legal practices but never did much harm. _God dammit, Jason,_ he thought to himself, _You’re the human equivalent of a dirty carnival._

He arrived at a big tent with a giant spherical cage in the center, but although the sign said shows every two hours there was no crowd waiting, just one rather large, tattooed man wiping one of the bikes off with an old rag.

“No show today, kid,” he said without even looking up, “One of our riders broke his wrist a few hours ago.”

“Oh,” Jason said, and he backed up a few steps but didn’t completely leave.

The man finally looked up at him, noticing the helmet tucked under his arm, “You ride?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, “Only for a couple years. I wanted to see some of the…techniques, and stuff.”

“You’re gonna have to come back next year, I’m afraid,” the man said, “but I can show you the cage if you want to take a look.”

Jason nodded and followed him over to it. It seemed colossal now that he was standing right beside it, but at the same time he imagined himself on his bike inside that cage and it felt almost claustrophobically small.

“How many guys are in here at once?” Jason asked.

“Three’s the maximum before we’re looking at a lawsuit,” the man said, “I don’t imagine four would go over very well anyways.”

Jason looked at it, running his fingers over the metal. As he inspected it he noticed something, an etching written in messy capital letters, looked to be carved with a knife of some sort.

HANSOM LUKE LIVES, it said.

“Who’s Handsome Luke?” Jason asked.

“Who?” the man said, looking over at the etching, “Oh, that. I dunno. That thing’s been there as long as I’ve been working here. Somebody’s friend, I guess. Maybe one of those local legends.”

“My dad’s name was Luke,” Jason said, more to himself than anyone else.

The man paused for a few seconds and let him look at it, “Maybe you could try your hand at this one day, kid, if you ever need a job.”

Jason stared into the center of the cage, “Nah. I don’t think so.”


	2. Homecoming

AJ wasn’t allowed to get high in his dorm room. Not that he was allowed to get high anywhere, but especially not there. His dad had pulled some strings to get him into a good school (and spent an entire long, painful summer teaching him how to write an essay at college level), and if he was caught getting high in his dorm that was it. Expulsion awaited and he’d never get into another school ever again. Maybe that was why his dad made him live there. Give him a bit of responsibility (and in return he would turn the other cheek when AJ snuck a few drugs home on vacations).

As luck would have it, it happened to be one of said vacations right now which meant he was on his way home (by bus rather than plane much to his discontent, although it was only a few hour bus ride at least). He had pulled out one of his textbooks and was idly flipping through the pages, skimming for bolded words and whatever the previous owner had highlighted. Though he could afford brand new textbooks, he always scoured the shelves for something used by a student that looked to be careful and studious. Important passages already highlighted, notes in the margins, the works. His father called it ‘dedicated laziness’ but as long as AJ pulled at least a 3.0 average wasn’t too intent on scolding him for it.

It wasn’t AJ’s idea to go to university, anyways. It was true that after the incident with Jason he was more involved in his father’s political activities and became interested in them himself – mostly because he liked the power, the entire stadium of people clapping and cheering just for you, the private jets and news coverage and everything else that went with it – but a few months after Jason had left he informed his father that he intended to try out for the police force and go that route, expecting him to be proud that his son wanted to do the same as he had.

Just the opposite, in fact. Avery was very insistent that AJ not join up with the police – especially the local police about which he’d heard more than a few muffled curse words directed at – and instead study at university. AJ wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but it grew on him after his first semester there. He studied politics and business, which meant wearing a suit to school every day for the sake of professionalism, something he still thought made him look ridiculous.

He slammed the heavy textbook shut as the bus pulled up to its stop. He was pretty sure he’d studied enough for this vacation already, and his dad was already waiting for him, standing outside of his car leaned up against it like it was Casual Friday although he still had his usual entourage around him.

“Hey, dad,” he said, stepping off the bus.

“Hey, sport,” Avery said, giving him a slap on the back and pulling him in for a hug with one arm, “That suit looks great on you, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess,” AJ said, but all he was thinking was how he couldn’t wait to get home and change into something more comfortable.

“Hey, so, I’m afraid I’ve got to leave town for a bit tomorrow, just overnight,” Avery said, looking at his watch, “When I get back on Sunday we can catch a movie or something, alright?”

AJ nodded, but something else caught his attention. A motorcycle roared by, stopping at the red light. He looked at the rider, no big deal, plenty of riders around here. But then the rider looked at _him_ , and did what could only be described as a cartoonish double-take before looking straight ahead and pretending to ignore AJ’s existence. AJ squinted to get a better look at him, but it was difficult to see the rider’s face with his helmet on. There was something familiar about him though, something he couldn’t get out of his head…

“D’you know him?” Avery said, motioning to the rider.

“Uh, someone from school, I think,” AJ said, not wanting to tell his father the idea he _actually_ had about who it might be.

“Well, good to know there are some other locals there, huh?” Avery said, “Hop in the car, we’ll get some burgers before we get home.”


	3. Reunion

AJ was out walking, lit cigarette dangling idly between his fingers. After getting used to the relatively cramped dorm space, it was kind of weird having the entire house all to himself. It was big, and empty, and full of memories that he’d shelved for the last few years. He was going to hop in to McDonald’s and buy himself some lunch, when he caught sight of a familiar motorcycle parked in the lot by the corner grocery store.

It was a silly thought, to stand there and wait by it. What if it were a completely different guy? Then he’d just look awkward, and unfortunately everyone knew exactly who he was, thanks to his dad. Besides, even if it were Jason if he saw AJ waiting by his bike, he’d find some way to avoid him, considering how things went the last time they saw each other. So, he took the slightly-less-silly option and leaned against the wall in the alley where he had a view of the bike, and waited for its rider to go to it.

A few minutes later Jason walked out of the corner store, soda can in hand and a chunk of beef jerky hanging out of his mouth. AJ almost couldn’t believe it, but there, like it was destiny, was Jason unmistakeably now that he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He hesitated and almost didn’t say anything, but decided to step out and confront his old friend.

“Hey,” AJ said.

Jason raised his hands like he’d just been caught by the police, dropping his soda can on the ground and nearly choking on the beef jerky. He looked back at his bike and hopped on it, revving the engine up.

“Wait, come on, man,” AJ said, “Don’t fuckin’ be like that after all this time.”

“You’re gonna call the police,” Jason said.

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve done it a long time ago,” AJ said.

“Didn’t your dad put a warrant out for me?” Jason asked.

“No,” AJ said.

Jason lowered his arms, but still turned his head away every time AJ tried to look him in the eyes. As much as he wanted some element of trust to be there, he couldn’t believe that he wasn’t a wanted man here.

“I think he thought you were even, or something,” AJ shrugged, “I dunno, man, but once he saw that I was alright I think he just kinda let it go. He got asked a lot of questions and shit but all he said was that you were some boy he didn’t recognize.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, “I’m sorry about all of that. About everything, you know.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” AJ said, “I kinda deserved it. I shouldn’t have started a fight over it. I shouldn’t have made you get all the drugs and shit.”

“I started the fight,” Jason said, “Over something that wasn’t your fault.”

“We were kids, y’know,” AJ said, “Shit happens. Why’d you come back?”

Jason looked off in the other direction. Off towards the roads he knew so well when he lived here. Off towards the trees and the freedom and the wilderness. Then, back towards AJ. Truth be told, he didn’t even know why he came back here. It was a stupid idea. His parents could’ve seen him. _Anyone_ could’ve seen him, and no amount of fake names and IDs would convince them otherwise.

“I don’t know. I guess I just felt like I couldn’t leave it behind forever,” Jason said.

“Returning to the scene of the crime, huh?” AJ laughed, “C’mon. You got a place to crash tonight?”

“No, I shouldn’t,” Jason shook his head.

“My dad’s gone for the night, it’s no big deal. You gotta be out by morning though, I mean I think he let it go ‘cause you were gone and all but if he saw you again he’d probably freak the fuck out if you know what I mean,” AJ said.

Jason kicked the empty soda can to the side, frothy root beer soaking into his boots. “I could have a gun or a knife or something. Why would you want to let me in your house?”

“Because you didn’t,” AJ said, “Didn’t do anything, I mean. Except scare the shit outta me, but I’ve gotten worse injuries at school than that concussion. I doubt you wanna kill me now more than you did back then, and you didn’t back then, so whatever, you know?”

“I’ve got my bike,” Jason said.

“Just park it outside,” AJ said.

“I mean, if you wanted a ride home, but you gotta ride bitch,” Jason said.

“Fuck no, it’s a ten minute walk, I’ll just meet you,” AJ said, “You remember the way, yeah?”

 _How could I forget_ is what Jason wanted to say, but all he did was nod and say ‘yeah’.

“Buy us some chips or something and meet me there,” AJ said, tossing a ten dollar bill in his direction.

Jason never thought he’d be seeing that house again, except for in his dreams which had gotten less and less frequent throughout the years. Still, he dreamt of that house more than he dreamt of his own, as if he grew up there. He supposed he might have grew up there, in the sense that became an adult there. Maybe because he decided not to shoot anyone that day, or maybe because his actions kind of forced him to take responsibility for himself, forced him to run away and leave and find his own place in the world. Either way, it was unsettling, like an old ghost house.

“What’re you staring at?” AJ said, and Jason jumped at the sound of his voice, too distracted by his thoughts.

“Nothing, just…it’s a nice house,” Jason said.

“It’s the same as it always was. Were you too high to remember it?” AJ said.

“Yeah, must’ve been,” Jason said, knowing he remembered almost every detail, “Uh, I didn’t know what kind of ships you like so I got Doritos and Barbeque.”

“Chips is chips, I like ‘em all,” AJ said, unlocking the side door, “I got some shit up there for us too if you wanna.”

“Oh,” Jason said, “I kinda…quit doing all that. It made me think about things I didn’t want to think about, it’s complicated. I’ve still got some cigs though, if you wanna bum a few.”

“Just cigarettes? Man, that’s pretty weaksauce for an outlaw,” AJ said – only in jest, if Jason didn’t want to drugs anymore, whatever, it was his choice.

“I’m not an outlaw really, just kind of like a…guy, you know,” Jason said.

“A guy,” AJ said, raising an eyebrow, “Is that how you introduce yourself to everyone? You must score some mad chicks.”

Jason laughed and followed AJ inside. The house was dark, but it hadn’t changed much. AJ’s room was almost exactly the same, it had been kept the way it was since he was in high school, almost like a strange sort of shrine or something.

“It’s kinda awkward, isn’t it?” AJ said, “I mean, it’s got all the same shit and stuff.”

“Huh? I didn’t notice,” Jason lied.

“I know you did, don’t even,” AJ said, “Most of my stuff’s at university, I think my dad really wanted to keep my room the way it was so I just said fuck it and packed up all of the new stuff I got and brought it with me.”

AJ thought his dad was just upset that he was growing up and leaving home and wanted to keep things the way they were. What he didn’t know was that ever since the day he thought AJ was dead, since he really, sincerely believed it until he’d managed to get home, he felt guilty for not appreciating his son as he was. You don’t know what you’ve got until you think it’s almost gone. So he’d comment on all his stuff and his interests and try to get into what he was into, and although he came off as an out-of-touch old guy trying to be hip with the kids, at least it was the attention AJ always wanted.

“University? You?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, me. What, you weren’t expecting that?” AJ said.

“Don’t you have to write essay sand stuff?” Jason said.

“I can write a fuckin’ essay, it’s just stringing words together, yeah, and I’ve always been good at that,” AJ said.

“So that’s where your rap career went?” Jason asked, “I don’t think teachers give out very good grades if you use the word fuck in every sentence.”

“Man, don’t even go there, it’s at least another three years before I gotta start talking like some proper asshole too, I’m enjoying it while I can,” AJ said.

AJ looked down, biting his lip like there was something he wanted to get out but couldn’t find the right way to ask. It wasn’t abnormal for him to pause in the conversation, seeing as he was puffing a joint, but Jason waited patiently, running one of his fingers along the floor idly in a circular motion.

“My dad…when you took him out and did whatever,” AJ said, pausing for another few seconds, “I mean, he won’t tell me about it. Is there anything that happened, or did he say anything about me, or what?”

“No,” Jason shook his head, “He was just asking if you were alright over and over. He just wanted me to tell him that you were okay. He was worried was all, I don’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”

Jason contemplated telling AJ about the photograph he found in Avery’s wallet, of him, his mom, and his dad. As soon as he found it he felt like he understood something, something even AJ might not have known. How difficult must it have been to look after your own kid when you were staring at a picture of the man you killed and his kid, exactly the same age as yours, day in and day out?

Besides, he recalled the encounter he’d had with his dad’s old friend. He could tell that something was off, just like he suspected that AJ knew something was off right now but wasn’t saying anything, yet…what was it he said? ‘I’ll show you good things’. Good things so a boy could remember his father in a positive way. If his father had done something wrong, or upset anyone, he didn’t really want to know about it. What was the use in finding out? It was only right that he passed the favor on now.

“Alright,” AJ nodded, “What’ve you been up to? I mean, what the hell do you even do?”

“I ride around, mostly. I meet some people. Find places to crash, set up a tent, do odd jobs, whatever I want, basically,” Jason said.

“Sounds like you’d run out of things to do,” AJ said.

“I dunno, I think I was more bored at home with TV and video games and all that, when you’re used to having all this stuff to do but you don’t actually _have_ to do any of it, you get bored more easily, I guess. I never know what to expect anymore. I totally didn’t expect this,” Jason said.

“So where do you like to ride most? I always wanted to get a bike but my dad says they’re dangerous,” AJ said.

“Honestly, this is gonna sound weird, but I like the flat places. The prairies, the southeast, farmland and shit,” Jason said.

“Seriously? I’d have figured you were more of a mountains and hills guy,” AJ said.

“That’s all great too, but you know when you’re riding on an empty dirt road with nothing but flat land ahead of you…you can see the curve of the Earth, man, I grew up here around all these forests and shit so I never got to see that before. It sounds dumb but it took my breath away the first time I saw it,” Jason said.

“You really are an artist,” AJ said, holding up his joint, “You sure you haven’t taken a puff of this while I wasn’t looking?”

“I’m sure!” Jason said, giving AJ a shove.

They sat silently for a few minutes. It was strange how they could go back to something like this after everything that happened. Maybe it was because they’d grown up a little, but growing up didn’t usually mean forgiving a fight where a gun was involved. There was something different between them, something that neither of them had shown to anyone else. That day they’d both been at their absolute worst and managed to pull through it okay. It was likely that neither of them would get that low ever again, and they were the only ones who knew about it – well, Avery knew, too, but it was a little different when it was a parent. It was a rare thing to find a friend with whom you shared your greatest ups and downs.

Shame such a friend couldn’t always be kept. They both looked each other in the eye (finally, without Jason fidgeting and looking around the room) with a sense of mutual understanding.

“You’re leaving town in the morning, aren’t you?” AJ said.

“Yeah,” Jason said, “I’ll come back someday.”

“Get your ass back here when I’m living on my own,” AJ said.

“You know, it’s gonna be a lot easier for me to keep track of you than it’ll be for you to keep track of me,” Jason said, “Especially if you get to be some big shot.”

“ _When_ I get to be some big shot,” AJ said.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Big Shot,” Jason said, “But does that…I mean, doesn’t it seem a little unfair I guess?”

AJ shrugged, “I guess, but it’s the way things are so what do I expect you to do? Add me on fuckin’ Facebook?”

“I guess not,” Jason said.

“I’ll tell you what,” AJ said, “When I’m all up in the sky flying in my first-class private jet or something, I’ll look out the window and if I see some asshole riding his motorbike on a dirt road staring at the curve of the Earth, I’ll know it’s you.”


End file.
